


Licorice and M & Ms

by Khylara



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), joetrick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: Patrick has secrets. Turns out Joe has a few, too.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Joe Trohman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Licorice and M & Ms

Patrick watched as Joe tuned his guitar, an anxious look on his face. "Can I talk to you a second?" he asked, biting his lip.

Joe checked his watch. "We go on in ten," he reminded the singer. 

"I know and I'm sorry for doing this now." He fiddled nervously with his guitar strap. "But I think we need to talk."

"Okay. Sure." Joe stepped aside, the look on his face turning to concern as he watched Patrick fidget. "What is it? You look scared to death." He suddenly frowned. "What in the hell did Pete do now?"

Patrick immediately shook his head. "No, it's nothing he did," he said quickly. "It's something else."

Joe folded his arms across his chest, his tattoos visible in the dim backstage light. "Okay...what's up?"

Patrick heaved a sigh, taking his hat off long enough to run a hand through his red hair. "I just think we really need to talk," he finally said, his nervousness evident in his voice. 

Joe stared at him, suddenly very confused. "About what, Trick?"

Patrick shook his head again. "Not here. And not now," he said. "Tonight? After the show?"

Joe shrugged. "Sure. We can order room service and do it then." He paused, holding out his hand. "Trick, whatever it is..."

"It's nothing bad, I promise," Patrick quickly reasurred him. "But we do need to talk."

"Sure." The lights dimmed and boh of them heard the crowd collectively lose it's mind. "See you tonight," With that, he bounded onstage.

Patrick watched him go, a lone tear slowly sliding down his cheek. "So much love," he breathed as he watched. "So much love in one man...how much would you love me if you knew?" Swiping at his eyes, he headed on stage.

*****

"So what's wrong with Trick?" Andy asked over two hours later, sweat dripping off him as they stepped off stage after their show. "He's been in a funk all night."

Pete shrugged as he swiped at his face with a bandana. "Don't know. I tried to get him to talk while you were doing your solo and he turned into a clam." He turned to Joe next. "Joe? Any idea what's wrong with Trick?"

Joe handed his guitar to a waiting tech and shook his head, "Not a clue." he glanced over his shoulder at the singer, who had just taken a bottle of water from another stage hand. "We're supposed to talk after the show. I'll try to get him to open up, whatever it is."

Andy and Pete looked at each other. "Did he say why?" Andy asked as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. 

Joe shook his head. "Not a chance. And he mentioned it right before we went on, so there wasn't time." His heart ached at the singer hanging back with such a sad look on his face. "Like I said, I'll try but you know how he can be."

Pete and Andy shared a look; Patrick could be prickly on the best of days. "Licorice," Pete supplied helpfully as he dug into his pocket for a handful of quarters. "The vending machine in the hotel lobby has them. They're his kryptonite. Feed him enough and he'll tell you things he doesn't want his own mother to find out."

Joe pocketed the change. "Good to know." He gave them both a one armed hug. "See you both in the morning." Waving them off, he headed for the wayward singer. "Hey."

Patrick looked up and offered the guitarist a wan smile. "Ready to go?"

Joe nodded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Whenever you are. The guys are gonna meet us for breakfast."

Patrick nodded. "Sounds good. Lets get out of here before we're overrun by teenage fans after a lock of your hair." Smiling, he pulled on one of Joe's curls for emphasis. 

Joe laughed. "Or your hat." Arm in arm, they headed for the waiting limo.

Once at the hotel, Patrick went to the desk to pick up a room key while Joe headed for the vending area. He got several bottles of water, along with a glass bottle of orange juice and several bags of black licorice. _I don't know how Patrick can stand the stuff_ , he thought as he added a bag of M&Ms to the top of the pile. Pocketing what was left of the change, he headed for the elevator.

Following Patrick to his room, Joe swiped his key card and ushered the singer in. "Go ahead and have a seat," Joe said as he shut the door behind them and kicked off his sneakers. "Phone's over there. Can you call down for coffee?"

Patrick nodded as he smiled. Joe's caffine consumption was almost as bad as Pete's. "Anything else?" he asked as he put his hat on the desk near the window. "I think I'm just getting tea."

Joe looked up. "How's your voice?" Patrick usually drank tea after a concert.

"Fine." Patrick sat down on the edge of the bed and began to dial. "I just want tea."

Joe watched as he dialed, his heart aching at the sight of his friend's red hair softly glowing in the lamplight. _He's beautiful,_ he thought as he cracked open a bottle of water and drank half of it down in one go. _You're so beautiful and you have such a big heart. What would you do if you knew?_

Resolute, Joe promised himself that tonight he would find out. Even if it turned out to be the last thing he did.

*****

"It was a good show tonight," Patrick said as he kicked off his shoes some time later, his empty cup by his elbow.

"Almost as good as the one we played here in 2007," Joe agreed as he popped a yellow M&M into his mouth. He eyed the singer; relaxed and sated with licorice and about a gallon of tea, he was as calm as he could possibly be. If Joe wanted to find out anything, he had to ask now. "Trick, what's going on in that head of yours?"

"What do you mean?"

Joe tossed him the last bag of licorice. "You asked me here tonight because you wanted to talk about something that was spooking you," he reminded Patrick gently. "And from what I can see, that hasn't changed. So whatever it is...I'm willing to listen."

Patrick ducked his head and heaved a sigh. "It's complicated," he finally said.

"Kinda guessed that," Joe said, tilting his head. "I mean, you didn't even tell Pete what was bugging you and you tell him everything." He scooted to the edge of the bed. "So what is it?"

The singer looked up with such a sad and miserable expression on his face that Joe couldn't help scrambling to his feet. "Patrick..." 

"I'm all right," he said, turning away. He nervously rubbed his hands on his knees. "Really. I'm okay."

"Bullshit," Joe said bluntly. "You look like you're gonna burst into tears if I say the exact wrong thing." he held out his hand, wanting desperately to comfort. "Patrick...like I said, man...whatever it is..."

Patrick managed another wan smile. "I know." Finally heaving a sigh, the singer began to talk. "Have you ever wanted someone you know you could never have?"

 _You,_ Joe almost blurted out, biting his tongue just in time. "Too many times to count," he said instead, keeping his eyes on Patrick. "Can I ask who?"

"Someone...important," Patrick finally said, not looking up. "Someone I can't live without."

 _He's here. Standing next to you,_ Joe thought, almost desperate. _Patrick, I'm here..._ "Whoever it is, you should tell him," he advised. "I mean...maybe they need to know."

Patrick shook his head. "No. he has a life, a family. So do I." He swallowed hard. "I can't...I can't screw that up. Not for either of us."

Joe heaved a sigh; this was turning out to be harder than he thought. "Patrick...whoever it is...they deserve to know that they're loved. Everybody does." Reaching out, he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. _Especially you,_ he couldn't help thinking. 

Patrick looked at the hand on his shoulder for a long moment before laying his own hand over it. "Thanks, man." He got up and reached for his shoes. "I should go."

"Stay," Joe invited, waving a hand at the bed. "The bed is huge and I already know you don't snore. Stay and get some sleep." he eyed Patrick. "I know you. Your insomnia is almost as bad as Pete's when we're on tour."

"That's Andy," Patrick retorted good-naturedly. "And no one's is as bad as Pete's is. Ever. I know. I'm the one he used to wake up at three in the morning whenever we were on the way to somewhere." He looked at the bed, obviously torn. "I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should. We both should. I'll lend you one of my t-shirts and I even have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom," Joe said hopefully. "Come on, man. I just..." He shrugged, suddenly helpless. "I hate seeing you like this."

Patrick looked at him, puzzled. "Like what?"

Joe shrugged. "Sad," he said simply. "You just look...sad. Like your whole world is falling down around your ears." He lowered his voice. "Let me help if I can, Trick. Please."

Patrick hesitated. "I really wish you could."

Joe stepped in front of him suddenly, not willing to let him leave like this and not wanthing to let this continue any longer. "Why not?" he asked. "Tell me."

Patrick smiled and gently shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," he finally said as he picked up his hat. He patted Joe's shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning."

Joe stepped in front of him again. "No."

One of Patrick's eyebrows went up. "No?"

"No. Not until you fucking tell me. Not until you're fucking honest with me, for God's sake," Joe answered, his temper growing by the minute. "Damn it, Trick...you need to talk to me!"

"What do you want to hear!" Patrick suddenly yelled back. "That I'm so in love that I can't think? Can't breathe? That I have no idea what to do or even how he feels?" He suddenly turned way, tears in his eyes. "I know how he fucking feels! He doesn't want me!"

"Then whoever it is is the biggest fucking moron I've ever known!" Joe yelled, finally throwing caution to the winds. "Because I sure as hell want you!"

They stopped and stared at each other. "What?" Patrick finally said, his eyes wide. "What did you say?"

Swallowing hard, Joe finally let the secret he had been holding back for months free at last. "I want you," he said, his heart soaring with the words, "I've wanted you for months. I want you so bad that I can taste it." Reaching out, he took Patrick's hat and tossed it back onto the desk before tangling their fingers together. "But more importantly? I love you." With that, he leaned down and gave Patrick a kiss. 

Patrick froze for a split second before throwing his arms around his guitarist's neck and returning the kiss with everything he had. _So good,_ he thought, losing himself in the touch, the feel of Joe surrounding him. _So damn good,,,Joe..._

Joe gently broke away a moment later, brushing a finger along his jawline. "Patrick," he breathed, his heart skipping a beat when he leaned into the touch. "Stay, please?" He brushed his lips against Patrick's, the singer's lips soft against his. "Let me take you to bed."

"Please," Patrick whispered. "Please...anything...Joe." he pulled Joe into another kiss.

Moving back toward the bed, Joe sat them both down on it as his hands slid down Patrick's chest. "Let me take some of this off you," he breathed. Patrick immediately raised his arms and moments later both shirts were on the floor. "God, look at you."

"Rather look at you." Patrick slowly ran a finger along Joe's tattoos. "These are beautiful." He looked up. "I don't know what they all mean."

"A lot of different things. My family. Places I've been. Things I've seen," he said as he laid them both down. "I'll be honest with you, though. Some of them don't mean jack."

Patrick let out a giggle. "You sound like Pete," he said as he traced a line down Joe's arm. "Andy, too."

"A lot of Andy's definitely don't mean jack," Joe pronounced as he let his own hands wander. "I should know. I've sat next to him when he's got half of them done, I think." He slid a finger along Patrick's pale skin. "You never wanted any?"

Patrick shook his head. "I can appreciate the art behind it, but that's about it." he sighed as Joe's finger circled one of his nipples. "Oh...Joe...

Leaning down, Joe flicked at it with his tongue. "Beautiful," he murmured, drawing Patrick even closer. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"So are you," Patrick managed to get out. "Perfect." He tugged on Joe's worn jeans. "Off. Take these off."

In return Joe slid a hand over Patrick's. "If yours go, too," he said, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. Nodding, Patrick sat up.

Soon both men were naked and kissing, hands roaming. Joe rolled over enough to pin Patrick under him. "This okay?" he whispered.

Patrick nodded, arching underneath him. "Please." He wound his arms around Joe's neck, hazel eyes wide. "Please." For an answer, Joe began to kiss him again.

Slowly the guitarist began trailing kisses down Patrick's chest, pausing to tongue his nipples erect. "Mmm...good," he breathed as Patrick squirmed underneath him. "So sweet."

Patrick's hands clutched at the sheets for support. "Oh, God...that's it," he muttered, his head tossing back and forth against the pillows. "Please, Joe...please don't stop."

"Never," Joe promised as he moved still lower, his hands skimming the singer's hips. "You look good. Andy been bullying you into going to the gym with him?"

"No...Pete," Patrick got out, much to Joe's surprise. "Pete and I run most days...if we don't have a show. It helps calm him down and we usually hash out songs on the way." A moan escaped him as Joe kissed him right below his belly button. "Joe...you don't have to."

Looking up, Joe suddenly grinned. "I know. I want to." He ducked his head down and slid his mouth over Patrick's hard cock.

Patrick cried out, his fingers tangling in Joe's curls as he was licked and sucked. "God...oh, God...Joe...please...please..." he begged. "Love your mouth on me...please dont stop..."

Joe sucked harder, one hand on Patrick's hip to keep him on the bed while the other slid between his legs to play with his balls. _Come on, Trick honey,_ he thought, looking up to see his partner's flushed face. _Little bit more...let me see you...taste you when you come._

He got his wish. A moment later, Patrick cried out as he came, spurting everything he had down Joe's eager throat. The guitarist licked him clean, giving the tip of his cock a little kiss before sliding up the bed to cradle Patrick in his arms. "Hey, man," he said softly, brushing a lock of red hair out of his closed eyes. "You okay in there?"

Patrick's eyes flickered open and he managed a lazy little smile. "Hey." He brushed a finger along Joe's jawline. "You pack one hell of a punch."

Joe ducked his head. "I was hoping. I mean, I haven't had a lot of practice." At Patrick's wide-eyed expression, Joe explained. "Andy and I...sometimes we trade blow jobs back and forth late at night when the miles get too long and neither one of us can sleep." He shrugged. "Stress relief. And it helps with the insomnia. Andy's not...I'm more flexible than he is, but he can be cuddly when he wants to be."

"I don't want to get in the middle of anything," Patrick started to say, his fingers brushing Joe's wedding ring. "Especially with Marie."

"You're not. Marie and I have an understanding." Joe suddenly grinned. "She doesn't mention whatever hijinks I get into on tour and I don't mention the college girlfriend that lives three doors down from my mom whenever she brings Ruby over for playdates with Grandma."

"Oh," Patrick said, understanding dawning. "And your mom? She doesn't know?"

"About me? Hell, no. About Marie? Mom is pretty oblivious when it comes to the trifecta of granddaughter, "Sesame Street" and endless games of patty cake." A wry smile crossed Joe's face. He glanced at Patrick's own wedding band. "Elisa?"

Patrick shook his head. "She's not in the picture anymore," he said, a far away look in his eyes. "The last break in the tour...we signed divorce papers. She's leaving next week to start a new life in Miami of all places." He wrinkled his nose as he continued. "I think he's with Miami Dade Crime Lab. Stetler, I think his name is." He shrugged. "He's more than welcome to her."

"I'm sorry," Joe whispered, not knowing what else to say. "Did she say why?"

"She never said, but I can guess." He let out a heavy sigh. "I met her while I was doing "Soul Punk". I was home more, not touring as much. When we got Fall Out Boy back together...she tried to understand...but she just didn't get it." He paused. "She never really did."

Remembering the sour look Patrick's wife had worn on the nights she had visited backstage or on her brief visits on tour, Joe suddenly understood. "I'm so damn sorry," he said again. "Can I do anything?"

"You're doing it," Patrick said simply. "You're here, in bed with me, showing me how much I'm loved." He suddenly smiled. "I have to say, though...this is a pretty nice surprise."

"This is, too." He brushed a kiss across the singer's lips. "I didn't know. Why didn't you say anything?"

"A lot of reasons. I told you some of them." Patrick's voice was quiet. "By the way...you taste like chocolate."

"And you taste like licorice. I'm beginning to like it." He paused. "Let me guess...no more talking?"

"No more talking," Patrick agreed. "We can go over everything again in the morning." He suddenly pulled Joe close, his eyes shining. "And I'd hate to waste this huge bed." He slid a hand down to cup Joe's ass.

Answering Patrick's silent question, Joe pulled the blanket over them both effectively ending communication between them for the time being.


End file.
